


Stormseeker: One Thousand Regrets

by Serriya (Keolah)



Series: Stormseeker Saga: Alternate Timelines [10]
Category: Geneforge, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic, Warhammer 40.000, Werewolf: The Apocalypse
Genre: Amnesia, Dimension Travel, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2692307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexen, the interdimensional time traveler, hears the tales of others who he offered his power to in order to give them the hope of a second chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rispy

Regret.

Is it the only reason anyone would wish to travel through time? To go back into the past to change what had transpired before, to undo their mistakes and make a better future for themselves? That seems an awfully narrow view that precludes all the glorious possibilities that might be available. Time is a beautiful thing, and why would it be only regret that drives us to traverse its depths?

My name is Lexen Chelseer, the Stormseeker, and I am a Time Mage. I have a number of other names and titles that I have acquired over my untold years of existence through various times and dimensions, but I have forgotten most of them and they're not very important anyway, in the grand scheme of things. But then, what is?

"Have I ever told you that you're insane?"

That's Rispy, pointing out the obvious to me, for the first and thousandth time. This Rispy is new to me, and this Rispy I barely know, but he is familiar in a way that I cannot describe, as if I have spent centuries with him and know him as well as I know my own soul, if not better. And he knows me, and knows everything I have been through, and probably has more extensive memories of my journeys than I do, but is less inclined than I am to ramble on about them. There are many things which he will not tell me, which is rather aggravating, but I am determined to find out what secrets he holds, one of these days, and why he keeps them from me.

Let me back up a moment here and start, if not from the beginning, but from where I effectively woke up, and encountered Rispy for the first and most recent time.

I wake slowly, groaning and blinking my blurry eyes into the bright light. I have no idea where I am, and do not remember how I got here or what I had been doing previously. Was I hit on the head? I've certainly got the headache to imply that.

My vision clears slowly. I'm being held in a cage of pure energy, shimmering brightly around me. I shakily climb to my feet, inadvertently touching the force cage in the process and receiving a nasty shock for my trouble. Hissing, I pull back my hand sharply and clench my arms against my sides.

"Lexen, are you alright?" says the brown-haired human woman in the cage next to mine. She seems familiar, but I cannot bring to mind her name.

"Well," I say slowly, my tongue feeling thick and struggling with each word. "I'd say I've been better, but I don't remember when. Or much anything else." I shrug slightly, cautiously, then roll my shoulders.

"You've forgotten everything?" the woman says. "Even me?"

"Afraid so," I reply. I don't like putting myself in such a vulnerable position, admitting to my mental deficit like this, but seeing as I'm already locked in a cage like this, I can't see as how the situation could possibly get any worse. And besides, she appears to be a fellow prisoner, anyway.

The woman sighs heavily, and says, "My name is Bastila Shan. We've being held--"

Her explanation is interrupted by the door whooshing open to reveal a yellow-skinned man with two tails hanging from his head. A Twi'lek, some half-forgotten memory supplies helpfully.

"You have no idea what I went through to find you, Lexen," the Twi'lek says. "Let's get you out of here, before you loop again."

"Wait, what?" I say. "Who are you? What are you talking about?"

"I'm Rispy, and there is literally no time to explain," he replies. He goes over to the console and presses a few buttons, and the two force cages flicker and fade out of existence. "Just trust me, please? We need to get out of here, _now_."

I don't recognize this man, but I know the name Rispy, and I know subconsciously, implicitly, that I can trust him with my life, with my very soul. I take a deep breath and nod, and follow him out of the room. Bastila casts a concerned frown in my general direction, but trails along after us. I don't know what she thinks of the situation, but I doubt she'd want to remain in her cell regardless. She clearly doesn't seem to recognize Rispy, either.

"So," says a metallic voice directly in our path. "Did you think you could escape me so easily, Revan?" A tall man with an artificial jaw stands before us, blocking our progress through the corridor. He pulls out a small object, and a glowing blade of pure red energy emerges -- a lightsaber.

"Stand down, Malak," Rispy says. He brings out a lightsaber of his own and ignites it, holding it expertly, this one violet.

A rush of surprise floods me at this and I blink. I don't know why I should be surprised, but it seems that the thought of Rispy wielding a lightsaber is shocking to me for some reason. This really does not seem the time to dwell on that, however.

"And why should I?" Malak says, narrowing his eyes at the Twi'lek. "And who might you be? Revan's new apprentice?"

Rispy snorts softly. "You have no idea what's really going on here. Nothing is as you thought it was, and I have crossed time and space to aid the Stormseeker."

Malak glares at him impatiently, and I simply stare in confusion. What's going on here? Suddenly, I feel as though I am no longer the focus of my own story, in a manner of speaking. Something is different. Something has shifted. I do not understand what, but the very thought makes me feel a little dizzy.

"Identify yourself, and explain," Malak says.

"Rispy is my name," the Twi'lek replies. "And I'm here to cut knots and let loose what might have been. You will not remember this encounter, but this echo will reach you regardless. When you next see Revan, _you will not kill him_."

Those last words are said with such force that they shake even me a little, even though I was not the one they were directed at. I feel ripples through my very soul, and I'm more than a little startled at sensing this level of power from Rispy.

"Rispy..." I say quietly.

Rispy shakes his head. "This didn't happen. I wasn't here. You got into too many knots like this. This is as much your own fault as it was Tom's, but Tom should not have done what he did. It caused too damned many problems on too many levels, and neither of you had any idea."

The world fades away into a white fog as if it never had been.

* * *

I wake slowly, blinking into darkness, unable to see anything, not even the faintest flicker of light within the tiny room that I have been imprisoned within. My mind is empty, and I remember nothing. I do not know where I am or how I came to be here. I do not understand what is going on.

A light shimmers into existence, held in the palm of a small creature with large ears -- a house-elf. "This wasn't how things were supposed to go," he says. "You weren't supposed to forget. You weren't supposed to be here."

"Who are you?" I ask. "What's going on?"

"Rispy," he says. "My name is Rispy. And I'm here to set things right."

"Care to explain, or is there no time for that?"

Rispy smirks. "Well, you're in luck. This time, there's plenty of time for that. Right now, you're being held prisoner in the Lestrange estate by one Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. And Bellatrix Lestrange keeps killing you, forcing you to loop back and repeat the day over and over."

"Wait a minute, back up there," I say. "You're going to need to explain a little more verbosely, as I have no idea what you are even talking about. Loop back? Killing me? What the fuck?"

Rispy sighs. "I would have hoped you'd have at least remembered that much. Alright, you see, you're a Time Mage. You've got some sort of weird innate time travel power. Nobody else in existence has ever had it or will ever have it again. Your soul meanders its way through time and space, being continually reborn and forgetting itself. But that wasn't what was supposed to happen here. Here, you're still being Lexen. Tom hasn't put the Obliviation spell on you, and you haven't become a different you yet."

"I still don't understand."

"Never mind the details," Rispy says. "Suffice it to say, when you die, you don't actually die. You don't die when you are killed. Most people die when they are killed, right? You don't. You are eternal. Your soul rejects death. You go back in time instead, generally to a point where you might be able to prevent what happened to kill you in the first place. You're not supposed to forget, under normal circumstances, under the common, ordinary hops. Not until Tom messed with things, at any rate, but that's not what happened here. Something weird happened here, and you came to a place you weren't supposed to be."

I stare at him incredulously.

Rispy shakes his head. "Look, I can't explain it. This isn't my area of expertise. I kill people. I prefer direct solutions to problems, and here I am rambling as much as you do."

"If you say so," I say with a smirk. "So, let's cut to the chase, then. I'll figure it out myself in due time. What needs to be done?"

"You need to remember," Rispy says. "And you need your power, too. You can't go on like this."

"How do I remember?" I ask. "And what power?"

"I can't delve into your mind and shake loose all your memories," Rispy says. "I don't know any Jedi mind tricks that good. But as for your power, well, I suppose remembering doesn't really necessarily help with that. Spells are complicated, but your inborn magic is instinctual. The main thing you ever had holding that back was a false belief in restrictions on it. When it boils down to it all, magic in its purest form is based upon will and desire. It's the raw manipulation of reality, and it is belief that drives it most."

I stare at him in shock as though he'd just grown a second head. He seems familiar even though I do not really remember him, and yet Rispy talking like this seems very surprising to me.

"Don't worry about it," Rispy finally says after a few moments. "I was never here, and this didn't happen."

A strange white fog clouds my vision, and the world is gone.

* * *

I wake, although I was not actually asleep, it was as though my mind were. I find myself staring into a swirling pool of sparkling liquid, rippling in colors I did not know existed. I feel strong, stronger than I have ever felt before, sharp and in control of myself. And I remember.

I _remember_.

"You alright there, Lexen?" Rispy asks. He's a servile again this time, so we must be on the world of Terrestia this time. The world of the Shapers, where they built the Geneforge.

"Rispy," I say flatly, not even looking at him.

"Well, at least you remember who I am, now."

"Rispy, what did you _do_?" I wonder.

"What do you mean?" Rispy asks.

"You did something," I say. "You changed something. You changed things. You were in places you wouldn't have been and did things you couldn't have done, and knew things you shouldn't have known."

"What are you talking about?" Rispy says, raising an eyebrow.

"Something happened," I say. "I don't really understand it. Maybe it was a different you? Maybe you don't even remember it. What's going on here?"

"I really don't know what you're talking about," Rispy says.

"Really, not just playing ignorant?" I say with a smirk.

"Why would I do that?"

"Never mind," I say, shaking my head. "I'm going to need some time to think on this."

I don't think that Rispy would intentionally deceive me. He's not really that sort of person. _I_ am. Rispy has always been the direct sort, like he said. Like he said, moments ago and never.

It doesn't really make sense. Now that I can remember things better, even though I'm not entirely certain where the gaps necessarily are, I can tell that Rispy's behavior was radically different. He was never a Jedi and was not even Force-sensitive. He shouldn't have known what he told me about Time Magic. He told me things even I don't fully understand.

The Rispy I encountered there must have been from some distant future, some far-flung timeline I have yet to experience. It's strange to encounter someone who has not experienced the same time-stream as I, but from a further perspective. Perhaps now I can understand how those around me must feel when I return from the future babbling about events they know nothing about.

No matter. I find that while I have memories of many other times and places, I have no knowledge of how I came to be where I am, nor even where that location might be. This appears to be an old Shaper laboratory of some sort, and it's very cold down here.

" _Thermos_ ," I mutter, and immediately find myself warmer. That's better. Now at least I'm not going to freeze to death trying to find my way out of here again.

It takes quite a bit of wandering, with Rispy scuttling along at my side, but I finally make my way out of the warrens. He's quiet for the most part, a baton in hand, and keeping an eye out alertly for any rogues that might choose to attack us.

When we emerge, we come upon a robed Shaper man, sitting on a chair as if it were a throne. Perhaps he imagines himself the lord of this frozen realm. Perhaps, by the authority of the Shapers at least, he actually is.

"You found it, didn't you," he says. "You used it. Fascinating."

"If you're refering to the Geneforge, then yes, I did," I reply. There's not much sense in denying it. Any fool would clearly be able to see my glowing skin and eyes, feel the essence of power radiating from my body.

"It seems to have cleared your mind," the Shaper says. "Perhaps reset you to a previous form from whatever you had degenerated into before."

"Perhaps," I say with a shrug. "I'm afraid I do not know who you are or how I came to be here. Perhaps you could fill me in?"

"I am Shaper Rawal," he explains. "Of the Shaper Council." A surge of rage rushes through me at this declaration, but I keep it under tight grips. "You came into my hands some years back, confused and lost, like an animal without a mind. I kept you with the serviles, as you seemed more comfortable there, as I tried to figure out what might have caused your state or what to do about it. Perhaps it was a bad canister, or a failed experiment. The Geneforge seems to have finally cured you, however."

I give a terse nod. "I see." I have my doubts that he did this entirely for my benefit.

"You were a powerful Shaper once, or a Lifecrafter, whichever side you might have originally been on," Rawal continues. "I find myself in need of a skilled agent."

"And you want me to be your agent," I say flatly.

"Oh, yes," Rawal says. "Before we go on, let me just give you a small demonstration." He lifts his hand, and I feel a tightness in my chest, as if something is squeezing my heart. He's no Sith Lord. What sort of power is this? I pull open my robes and peer down at my chest, and see a small nub sticking out from above my heart.

"What is this?" I ask, scowling.

"I call it a control tool," Rawal says. "It's a specially designed living tool, implanted into a person's chest. If they disobey me, I can kill them with but a thought. Many subjects died in my experiments before I got the procedure right."

I glare at him, suddenly even less impressed with him than I have been with Shapers in general. "A control tool. How quaint. Do you truly believe that this gives you any sort of real power?"

The tool in my chest clenches again, and I just have to roll my eyes at this puerile attempt at control. It's so crude, you might as well simply hold a baton to their heads and be done with it.

"Would you flaunt it and deny me?" Rawal says. "Great rewards can be yours for obedience, and death will be yours for disobedience."

"You've spent quite a bit of time and resources in hopes of fixing me," I say. "Would you kill me out of hand already? Besides, you realize that you'd have far better success with getting people to do what you want simply by promising those rewards and actually delivering on them, rather than threatening them?"

"If I offered them rewards, they might take them and then betray me," Rawal replies. "The control tool means that I can trust them."

"If you cannot trust anyone without being able to instantly kill them on a whim because they did something you didn't like, you are a pathetic individual," I tell him.

"Besides," Rispy puts in. "As suicidally insane as Lexen is at times, _I_ do not have a control tool in my chest. And I have a reaper baton pointed at your head."

Rawal seems to notice Rispy for the first time. "Where did you get that? How did you get in here? Ah. You must be one of those rebel serviles."

"You better believe it," Rispy says.

"You realize that if you were to kill me, you would be quickly slain, seeing as you are deep within my territory?"

Rispy smiles disturbingly. "Oh, yes. But it wouldn't really matter, as you would be dead, no?"

"That's a real Terrestian standoff we've got going here," I comment. "Mutually assured destruction?"

"You would sacrifice yourselves to kill me?" Rawal asks.

"I believe in freedom," Rispy says. "You seem to believe in control and slavery. If I should die to take you down, then my life was well-spent."

"Besides," I say, "Would you prefer that I pretend to be working for you, then just wander off and get someone to remove this tool? I could always be deceitful instead, you know. I don't have to warn you that I want you dead before I murder you, after all."

Rawal scowls at me. "You are not what I was expecting."

I shrug. "I don't know what you were expecting, but someone you would never be able to trust or control was clearly not it, or you wouldn't have gone to these measures."

Perhaps I would not be so arrogant and recalcitrant about it if I did not know that I would not truly die even if he were to decide to do away with me right this moment. The control tool clenches in my chest, squeezing tightly around my heart and bringing me to my knees in pain and weakness. Rispy fires his baton, striking Rawal's magic shields dead on and knocking them down instantly with an electric pulse.

I fall to the ground, laughing softly. I'm dying, and even if Rispy can kill the Shaper here and now it probably won't save me, but I don't care. It was all worth it. And yet, even as the world fades away and Rawal's screams dim in my ears, I have to wonder.

What if I forget again?


	2. Dragonfly

I had hoped to make a life for myself that was not built upon regret. However, the only reason that I have nothing to regret at the moment is because there is little that I remember.

Staring up at the swirling purple sky of Torn Elkandu, I sigh and put the book away. I've read these books over what must be a dozen times, familiarizing myself with the magic of the Elkandu, and yet I remain unsatisfied. Snatches of memories of other worlds tell me that their knowledge of how the universe really works is very sketchy and incomplete.

I had hoped that they had access to secrets that I might have only dreamed of in other lifetimes, but it seems that they have only the smallest sliver of the picture. There is so much out there that still remains a mystery to them. All the knowledge of the universe awaits, through the Nexus, and here I have been in Torn Elkandu for years, reading and learning what I can, only to find that I probably could have learned more elsewhere.

Still, my time has not entirely been wasted, nor is it like my time is limited anyway. The Elkandu do have a solid foundation of knowledge about the flows of mana, unmuddied by confusion about waving wands and chanting words in dead languages. Their magic is simple, primal, ineffecient and direct. They weave shields and throw fireballs, but complex magic is beyond their knowledge.

And yet, is it really? I seem to recall one of the Elkandu who had pushed the boundaries of their knowledge into realms I had never conceived of... a fleeting memory of a red-haired woman, but I cannot remember her name.

"Lexen?" says a voice behind me, shaking me from my thoughts. I turn and look over my shoulder to see a young woman -- no, a girl, she can't be more than sixteen -- with short-cropped light brown hair.

"Yes?" I say. However old I feel or how many years I've experienced, I'm physically no older than her myself. I've allowed my body to age naturally while in Torn Elkandu, even though I know I could appear to be any age I wish.

"I suppose I should thank you," she says. "Although I did not expect to wind up coming back quite this far."

"What do you mean?" I wonder. Something about what she said... her soul seems to resonate with me.

"I felt you in my mind, and you asked for my regret, and gave me an opportunity to come back and make a better future."

"I see," I say. "You must have had many powerful regrets, then."

"You have no idea," the girl says. "Or perhaps you do."

"Care to fill me in, or would you rather forget the future-past that was and will not be again?"

"Time travel is complicated," she says dryly. "I suppose I should tell you. I need to tell someone, and there's no one else who would understand what I have to say or think it anything but nonsense."

I give a crooked grin. "You might be surprised. You aren't the only one who came back. But, do go on, then. I will listen to your story."

* * *

I was given the name Rettah when I was born. I was named Firefly when I came of age, but that name was stripped of me after I danced the Black Spiral. The name given to me by the Spiral was Zethe. Then, many centuries in the future, when I earned my place in another tribe in another world, I took the name Dragonfly. So, I would prefer the name Dragonfly, as it was the only name which I chose for myself, even though I don't know that I really deserve it, after everything.

I'm a werewolf, a Garou as we call ourselves, born on the world of Terra, Earth as it was called once. A world hanging on by a thread, hardly resembling what it once was, populated by beings who have forgotten much of their own past.

I made mistakes. I will be the first to admit that. I lied to my friend and lover, and danced the Black Spiral, and wound up lying to myself instead. My mind was twisted, and I convinced myself that things happened a different way than they actually had.

Do you know what a terrible thing it is to be unable to trust your own mind? Yes, I see that you do. The worst of it was that I didn't even realize what I was doing to myself.

I'm sorry, this is difficult to go into. I'll try to summarize.

I joined the Drakandu, and alienated my lover by sleeping with Sedder. Yeah, I figured you'd be familiar with him. She ran off, and I didn't see her again for a hundred years or so, when the Planar Wars hit. By that point, I had convinced myself that my infidelity had never happened, and while our meeting was awkward at first, we were forced together for safety in order to survive the chaos that was sweeping across the planes.

The Planar Wars ended finally, and the Interdimensional Bridge opened. A chance encounter with a vampire who went off with a pet nirril led to me discovering the existence of another universe that greatly resembled a world we had once visited -- Terra of the distant past, before millennia wore it down into the forgotten wasteland it is today.

I fell in love there, with a Camazotz -- were-bat -- called Darksong, and a Garou called Keytar. We settled into a foursome arrangement, and were happy for a brief time, and I became pregnant with twins.

And then I encountered the Black Spiral Dancer, Jez'kai. He took me away with him, and Darksong came to be with me. Keytar refused to submit to Jez'kai, however, and I allowed terrible things to be done to him.

Jez'kai had an insane plan to sacrifice an entire city in order to summon a manifestation of entropy. At the last minute, he changed his mind and had a grand idea to use this dark energy in order to corrupt the leader of the Garou who were trying to stop him. Gaia, Luna, and Helios themselves had empowered their champion to defeat this villain and prevent him from undoing all of creation, and when he was struck by this corruption, he absorbed their essences and effectively became the new god of that world.

With his newfound powers, he destroyed Jez'kai and sealed his soul within a crystal, which he gave to me and sent me back to Torn Elkandu along with Darksong. And took my unborn children from me. I entrusted the crystal to Shazmar, and tried to tell Keytar that I still loved him and wished I could spend one more day with him. How do you apologize for something like what I'd done? Except that I'd twisted my own memory so that I didn't really know what I'd done.

I was grudgingly accepted back into the Garou society, on account that I regretted what had happened, and the four of us were together again, for a time. A few others came to share our space, refugees from the Karzan Galaxy. Emily Jordan, and a daemonette originally from another universe entirely. The daemonette promised to fulfill my fantasies, and I had it take the shape of Jez'kai for me.

When the others found out about this, they were disgusted and horrified, and cast me out again. Even my name was taken from me. I was sent off into the slums to be rehabilitated. I sank into a pit of depression and remorse, and contemplated doing something extreme to change things.

* * *

A voice called out for me. A voice called my name: _Dragonfly_. I was at once thrilled and terrified to be called by a name that was no longer mine.

For the first time in as long as I could remember, I had hope. I poured out my regret, and let forth my soul, grasping that thread of hope like a lifeline. The world twisted around me, yanked away, taking away a terrible future.

Disoriented for a moment, I found myself back at where it was first discovered that I'd been fooling around with the daemonette. That wasn't good enough, though. That was too late to change things. I watched in frustration as Keytar discovered my indiscretions all over again. Watching the security recordings from the cameras inside the apartment showing all the deviant things I apparently had wanted to do with Jez'kai.

"Look," I said, stammering. "Keytar. I know it's wrong. I know it's a problem. I need help. I'm sorry. I thought it would help. I thought that creature would be able to take away these desires. I didn't want them. I never wanted them."

As tears stung my eyes, the world blurred and faded away.

I found myself in another scene. A package lay open in front of me on the floor of the apartment. A pair of bloody, feathery wings lay inside the box, and a note in my trembling hands told me that Jez'kai has captured Darksong, implicitly daring me to come and try to rescue her.

I sighed softly, and ran my fingers down the angelic wings, torn out of their sockets violently and delivered as a mocking trophy. I knew what I had to do. What I was afraid to do last time.

I looked up to where I knew a camera was, and said, "I'm sorry Keytar, Ylanwad. I have to save her, or die trying. She walked into hell for me. I won't leave her there alone."

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself against what was to come -- returning to Jez'kai's clutches. I didn't look forward to it at all, regardless of what fantasies I might have held. I Recalled to the Nexus of Torn Elkandu, and from there I stepped through the mists to the world of Toronto, in the Karzan Galaxy, where Jez'kai was making his headquarters.

My feet felt like lead as I stepped toward the dark palace. I had no plan. I had no idea what I was going to do when I got there. I had fantasized about this day, what I might have done, what I could have, would have, should have done, and now that I am here, those thoughts all flutter away like futile dreams. I had imagined that I might charge in, the avenging angel, and reach inside myself to find some incredible power of the light heretofore unseen. In my mind, I'd told him, "Wings don't make an angel. Faith does," and struck him down in a beam of brilliant light like an orbital bombardment from the power of love. Ridiculous, I know.

Nothing like that happened. I walked into that palace and became his slave once again. I couldn't save her. I could hardly even be with her. He abused us until he grew bored of us and moved on to other playthings. My heart broke a little more each day at what Darksong had been trapped in, and how we'd left Keytar and Ylanwad behind, although I was grateful that they did not come for us. At least they were safe.

This was not the future I had hoped for. I was still full of remorse. And as I realized that, as I realized this second chance had brought me no happiness, my vision blurred and the world faded away as I was yanked back in time again.

This time, I found myself standing in Torn Elkandu, the crystal pendant that held Jez'kai's soul dangling from my fingers. I stared at it for a long moment, like a dark nightmare waiting to be shattered. I clenched my eyes shut and took the crystal in the palm of my hand, holding it tightly, and let out a deep breath. Purposefully, I walked down the streets of Torn Elkandu, away from the Nexus, to the office where Falk and his brood kept shop.

"Jez'kai has been defeated," I told him, and placed the crystal on the desk in front of him. "Take it. Destroy it! Find some way to keep him from ever coming back. I don't know how, but I trust that you will find a way to keep the universe safe from him, somehow."

Darksong hugged me tightly, and I gave her a reassuring smile. It felt like the right decision. There was nothing to regret from this course. Falk would take care of it, and if he could not, it was no longer my fault. It had been my fault for entrusting Shazmar with it, when Shazmar merely brought Jez'kai back to life just for the sake of his own amusement.

And yet, everything still wasn't perfect. Keytar had been tainted by Jez'kai's torments, and his recovery was difficult. I couldn't imagine how he could forgive me for that. Further remorse still in my mind, I found myself jerked back through time once again.

This was growing disorienting, to say the least, but at least I could imagine that the timelines I left behind would prove better than the one I had followed originally.

I stood on a rooftop somewhere in Russia, dark energy swirling and rippling around me, pulsating like a living being. Jez'kai and Lucian faced off before me. Jez'kai had just sacrificed the entire city to call forth this much power, and Lucian bore the power of the almighty trinity in his paws. Wild-eyed, Jez'kai brought the darkness to bear upon the champion of the light in an attempt to drag him down into the shadows.

I had to stop him. I could not allow this to happen. I had to prove to the world that I was on their side.

Leaping forward, I placed myself between Jez'kai and Lucian at the last moment. Unholy power struck me dead on and ripped through my body in excrutiating pain. I screamed, roared in agony at the unimaginable torment, and tried to hold my ground, but I could not withstand the incredible power being forced through me.

With the strength of the gods behind him, Lucian could survive such an onslaught. I, however, had no recourse. Mercifully, the pain ended and the world twisted as I was thrust back in time again.

Jez'kai stood before me now. Even though he was in human form, he seemed to loom threateningly over Keytar's frozen figure. We were suspended between moments in time, the world unmoving around us.

"You are more enlightened than these foolish Gaians, certainly," Jez'kai said smoothly. "Come with me. Learn what you are truly capable of."

"What _am_ I truly capable of?" I asked him.

"You will have to find out and see for yourself," he replied.

I paused and gaze at him. I knew that the answer had to be no, and yet I couldn't help but be curious. And yet, I knew that I had received no enlightenment when I had agreed to go with him before.

I stepped up toward him, placing myself between him and Keytar. "No," I told him firmly, knowing he was likely to kill me then and there, knowing I might as well be defenseless against him. "I will not go down that path. I will not follow you. I will fight you to my last breath if need be."

I brought forth my inborn Talent, letting an aura of flames lick about my body, and shifted into my werewolf form. I'd wished about this moment as well, dreamed of calling forth Suzy's soulfire to burn Jez'kai's soul and destroy him once and for all. I even tried to do it, tried to weave the soulfire that I'd been given the secret of, but I could not do it. I had no talent or experience with Soul Magic. They say you can learn any sort of magic you want, with enough practice, but this was like trying to lift a barbell with one arm. I didn't have the strength or leverage for it. That didn't stop me from desperately trying, anyway.

Fantasies never quite work out the way you'd wish, in reality. Jez'kai was not amused. And I... I thought I was going to die there, that day. Blinding pain. Before I knew what was happening, I was bleeding on the forest floor, wheezing and coughing up blood. And yet, even so, I felt that having the chance to die with my honor and dignity intact was preferable to the dead end future that had been ahead of me.

"I'm sorry I could not be a mother to you, little ones," I whispered as the world faded away.

I didn't die like I'd expected. I found myself further back in the past again.

My friends and I had just exited a restaurant. Jez'kai intercepted us, acting all cordial. Keytar's hackles rose at the sight of him, and Darksong tensed. He tried to entice me with empty promises of power and enlightenment, to get me to come along with him. If I'd accepted right then and there and gone with him, perhaps he would not have attacked the Sept.

"Here's my card," Jez'kai said, offering me a business card. "Do be sure to contact me if you change your mind."

Numbly, I took the card from his hands, holding it between two fingers and staring at it. I could feel magic woven into it, and realized, remembered, that was how he'd gained entry through the wards. I'd unwittingly taken an enchanted item that acted as a beacon for his attack.

With a hard look, I called forth my Fire Magic and channeled it into the card in my hand, and gave Jez'kai a look of grim determination. "I'm not interested." I turned on my heel and strode away, attempting to appear cold and collected even as I tried to calm my racing heart.

Did this really solve anything? For a while, I thought things were better. We were happy, and we were at peace, and I was accepted with open arms in the Garou community.

But the future was not to be changed for the better in this way. Again, Jez'kai sacrificed an entire city, and this time, without my presence there to alter the course of events, he called forth a manifestation of the Wyrm into the world. Darkness fell upon the earth, and the world unraveled into entropy.

Again I jumped back in time, and again and again, further and further back each time. I would spend days, sometimes even years, in each time period, and yet while I could change things, some things it seemed refused to change. I tried to warn people of their impending doom, but they either did not listen or did nothing.

Finally, I found a way to convince Falk to do what needed to be done. It took a few loops to figure it out, and I kept bringing back better information and was able to get through to him more and more quickly each time. But at last, it was done, and Jez'kai was no more. The world was safe.

And yet... as the years went on in peace, I realized that I had saved the world, but failed to save myself. This had never been about the world. This had been about _my own_ regrets. I had prevented or delayed Jez'kai's rise many times over the loops, and had only been satisfied with a permanent solution in the end.

I could not remember what I regretted, but I found no peace. As I'd hopped back in time, I realized that the magic you'd used to alter time and cause possibilities to blossom allowed no self-deception or falsehood. The memories I'd held at the times I returned to merged with the ones I held later, and I'd realized they were not always matched. I could not help but wonder what else my own mind had kept hidden from me.

And that, I suppose, is how I ended up here. Back at the beginning, before I danced the Black Spiral. Back when I was sane, before my mind was broken.

Now that I'm here, I realized something. Did any of it really matter? I remember everything now, but none of it actually happened. But then, is it not our memories, our experiences, that shape us from fresh clay and make us into who we are? In forgetting and twisting my own memories, I had failed to learn or to grow, to be able to change for the better.

Where does that leave me now? I don't even know. I don't even know anymore. But I have my whole life ahead of me again, a second chance, a thousandth chance, that I never thought was possible. Everything won't be perfect, to be sure, but I have nothing more to regret. I've gone past my first regret. And now I hope to live without generating any more. I'll make mistakes... but so long as I make choices that I can live with... I think that's alright. That's alright.


	3. Kalli

I frown at Dragonfly thoughtfully. "So, you wound up with my Time Magic power somehow, through that ritual?"

"I don't really know," Dragonfly replies. "I didn't experiment with it or anything. I really didn't want to push my luck. But it kept triggering without any input from me, as though it had a mind of its own."

"You were feeding it regret," I say. "I don't understand how it works myself. I've never seen it behave the way you describe. I always have to die in order to go back. I wound up starting to intentionally kill myself, when I realized that, to change events when things had gone wrong."

"You're braver than I, then," Dragonfly says. "I would never have dared, unless there was no other option."

I give her a crooked smile. "There are always choices. Perhaps not necessarily good ones, but they're always there. And choosing to do nothing is still a choice."

Dragonfly nods. "There is some point to that, though it took me far too long to realize."

I have to wonder if all of those who offered me their regrets wound up with similar stories to Dragonfly's. Could I really simply jump through time at will like that? And... can a thousand other people do that now as well? The implications are disturbing to think about.

"So, what do you plan to do now?" I ask.

"I'm really not sure," Dragonfly admits. "But for starters, I won't take the love and loyalty of a dear friend for granted. Perhaps I should ask her what _she_ wants to do."

"Have you told her about any of this?" I ask.

Dragonfly shakes her head. "I don't know how she would respond."

"It isn't always easy, coming clean about strange things with people you care about," I say. "Sometimes they might take it poorly. But it's better to be honest with those you want to trust than to hide things from them, especially big things like being from the future or another dimension. You don't have to tell her all the details if you're not comfortable with it, but if she truly loves you, she will forgive you anyway."

The memories are hazy in my mind, but I get the impression that I spent many lifetimes lying to people I cared about. I am not one to trust quickly or easily, and am quite paranoid about people finding out my secrets. I will be the first to admit that I am a hypocrite at times. But if I truly love someone? I'll take the chance. I'll take the risk, and let them in on my secrets. The alternative is spending possibly years feeling increasingly terrible about being unable to fully trust them, which would prevent me from ever really being comfortable around them.

I part ways with Dragonfly and move on, each going our separate ways. I think it's time for me to leave Torn Elkandu. The whole of the multiverse is out there, waiting to be seen. I think about the worlds Dragonfly mentioned in her story, even in brief description. I wander down to the Nexus and ask it to be calibrated for the Karzan Galaxy.

When the mists clear, I find myself surrounded by towering buildings lighting up the night. Skyscrapers flank the streets, and looking a little out of place stands an imperious palace. Hovercars zip overhead, leaving trails of colored light in their wake. I have to smile a bit at the sight of the place. Although I've spent years in Torn Elkandu now, this is more what I am used to and comfortable with. I wonder if this place has anything resembling Jedi and lightsabers.

Many of the alien species in this universe appear to be mammalian bipeds. I spot one resembling a rabbit browsing weapons, one with a horse's head carrying groceries, and a fluffy-tailed fox-like child having fun in a playground beside a school. No Twi'leks or Hutts or Rodians, so it's clearly not that closely related to the universe of my birth.

I wander into the Imperial Palace, picking up a tourist brochure and glancing it over. There are guards standing around discreetly keeping an eye on me, but clearly they allow members of the public inside parts of the palace at all hours.

"Huh? Wait, who are you?" says a woman's voice from the side.

I turn and look over to see a human woman wearing a denim jacket with a symbol on the breast pocket. "I am Lexen Chelseer, the Stormseeker. And you are?"

"Kalli May of the Dancers on the Edge of Death," she replies, glances down at a ring on her finger, then adds, "Empress's Own." She frowns thoughtfully. "You seem familiar, but I don't remember seeing you here before."

There's something about the way she moves and stands. She's off-balance, confused, out of place here, even though she claims to belong here. If it weren't for the feeling I got from here, I'd think she were hiding something. The same sort of feeling I got from Dragonfly.

"I doubt we've ever met in person," I say. "But perhaps I offered you hope in exchange for your regrets?"

Kalli blinks at me, glances about the room, then says, "Come into my office and let's have a little chat, shall we?" She gestures me into a side room and closes the door behind us. "What, in the names of the Nameless Ones, just happened?"

"Your memories came back in time to a previous point in your history, I take it?" I ask.

"Kind of a bit more than that," Kalli says. "It's complicated. And I'm still a bit disorienting seeing as I _just_ got here. It took me a few moments to realize just where and _when_ I even was."

"Take your time," I say. "We've got all the time in the multiverse."

Kalli nods, sits down and takes a deep breath. "This is... It's a bit hard to process. I can't believe I'm really back here."

"Was this the only jump you made back in time?" I ask.

Kalli thinks for a moment, then shakes her head. "No, but the others were so disorienting... I don't know. I need to figure this out."

"Perhaps it would help to go over what happened?" I suggest. "You must have had a lot of regrets, if you could help power that ritual."

"No kidding," Kalli says. "To say I had regrets is like saying the ocean has water. How could I have been so foolish?" She sighs. "Alright, you'd better take a seat. This is going to be a long story. I'll try to summarize."

* * *

My name is Kalli May. So long as I can remember, I considered myself to be a Dancer on the Edge of Death. I'm not sure if you're familiar with them, but their philosophy is that enlightenment can be achieved by coming close to death without actually dying, leading to many of them doing extremely dangerous or insanely reckless things for a living. I was Empress's Own. Special law enforcement with full authority and considered to be above all laws, answerable only to the Empress herself. I suppose I am again, now.

I was sent off to explore an unknown region of space, and my husband, Michael, died of an apparent heart attack exploring ancient El'dari ruins. I only found out centuries later that it was an El'dari safeguard that triggered because he was fully human, but that it had recognized me as being El'dari enough to pass. He was aging, but otherwise healthy, while I still seemed to be in my twenties. Still, it was sad but not all that surprising for him to die then.

Then, when I returned to the Empire, I found the galaxy had gone to hell in my absence. In hindsight, I suspect that I had been sent to the far reaches of space to get me out of the way and make sure I was out of communication long enough for the coup to go down. The nameless Usurper had taken over the Karzan Empire and named himself the Emperor. My beloved Empress Alisa lay dead, assassinated in her bed by her own trusted guards. My daughter, my only child, Sarah, killed in broad daylight just to make an example of her.

Heartbroken and enraged, I joined the resistance, the Rebellion, and sought to fight against them. For hundreds of years, I fought to bring down the Usurper. I even killed him a few times, but every time I did, he came back as though nothing had happened. Needless to say, I stepped back from my efforts to assassinate him and tried to figure out what was going on, and unravel his apparent immortality.

Then, the Interdimensional Bridge opened, and chaos ensued. Well, literally Chaos ensued. The Black Fleet, filled with followers of the Chaos Gods, invaded the Karzan Galaxy. They sided with the Rebellion, and I joined up with them for a time, but they were mad, insane people bent upon destruction.

I went travelling through the universes, and there I met an Eldar by the name of Dolen Ista. We married, got a home on a colony world on the fringe of the Karzan Galaxy, and I gave birth to twins. We were happy, and the galaxy was at peace.

And then Jez'kai showed up. An insane, demonic werewolf who was no longer another universe's problem. If we thought the Chaos invasion was bad, that was nothing compared to what the universe was like under Jez'kai. He sacrificed the entire planet Earth in order to make himself a god. I still have no idea how he even pulled it off.

I chose to join with him. I can't even tell you why. I was... attracted to the Nagah, Shayah, before his return, who had often worked for him. Dolen was far more tolerant than he should have been, and continued to stay at my side through far more than anyone could have asked him to. He remained even after I danced the Black Spiral. And yet, there were lines that even he would not cross, and when I crossed them, he was gone without a word.

After Jez'kai's eventual defeat, I tracked down Dolen again in the vain hopes that he might forgive me. And perhaps he was willing to give me an undeserved second chance, but Shayah came after me, and I could not refuse her. So I returned to Karzan with her, and there remained. Trapped, my mind crumbling and cracking, slowly going insane.

And then, I sensed in the back of my shattered mind, a tendril seeking regrets. I don't know what else I might have to offer, but regrets I have in spades.

The pirate spaceship I'd been on with Shayah vanished, and I found myself back on Lezaria, where I'd tried to return to Dolen and wound up running off with Shayah again. I stared at the Nagah before me, her long blonde hair and her intense eyes, and I realized there were no right answers here. Why was one of them a better choice than the other? My life was already a hopeless mess.

"There is no answer here that does not lead to more regret," I said aloud.

The scene vanished rapidly, and I found myself hanging suspended from the ceiling in front of Jez'kai. "What path do you choose?"

There were no right answers here either. Following Jez'kai was clearly a mistake, but it was already too late for the life I'd had with Dolen.

"None of the above!" I screamed, and the world was whisked away again.

This time, my vision was met with the sight of Dolen in a cave, his body dark and twisted and close to undead. Here I'd told him that he should live and have hope, and brought him back from the brink. Those words now sound empty in my ears, given all that happened afterward.

"I can't tell you what path to take," I said. "I don't know what I should be doing myself."

Again, the world warped and twisted, and the scene changed. Now, I stood before the Usurper. I realized in an instant where I was. I'd killed the Usurper here, and inadvertently caused the deaths of billions of people in the process due to telepathic backlash. Was it still the right move? Was it worth the sacrifice?

"I am not prepared to make this sort of decision for the universe," I said quietly, and again I was yanked back in time.

A swirl of other scenes rushed before me, finally ending... here. Now. I checked the date, and realized that I'd gone back before that fateful expedition, before the Usurper, before the Rebellion, back when things were peaceful and happy. Did my regrets run so deep? Was there no other salvation but to start over? I'm not sure that I even know what salvation might be anymore, but at least I can hope to save my husband and daughter. Maybe that's enough.

* * *

I stare quietly at Kalli as she finishes her story, unsure of what to tell her. From the sounds of things, this Jez'kai was the source of many regrets, and his power and sheer will to do evil were not something that they should really feel bad about being unable to stop. They made mistakes, they made foolish mistakes, to be sure, but from my perspective, joining with him may not have been the greatest of those. I was a Sith Lord. I know what it means to be insanely charismatic and to sway people to my side without them ever entirely realizing why.

"Don't be afraid of your own choices," I tell Kalli finally. "They might be a mistake, but take them anyway. Live them, own them. You've got the chance ot set things right, to fix things that were not your fault to begin with. No one can blame you for that."

"I expected you'd be a little more judgmental," Kalli says sheepishly.

I chuckle softly. "I try not to judge. I've certainly made my own share of mistakes. But my existence is hardly normal. For a moment, you got a taste of what it is to be me. You felt my power dragging you back through time to assuage your every regret."

"How can you regret anything when you know you can just go back and change it if you don't like what happened?" Kalli wonders.

"I don't know," I say. "Maybe I really don't have to. The universe will go on. Time branches with possibilities. Just because I removed myself from the mistake doesn't mean the mistake didn't happen. Someone still has to live with how that timeline will go on. What do you do? You save one timeline only to doom a dozen others? And does it really matter? Bad things happen, and for the most part, the universe keeps on anyway. A tyrant may rule the world for a time, until he dies or someone else deposes him. We're not the only heroes in the universe. Not everything needs to be up to us."

"So why do you do it, then?" Kalli asks.

"As selfish as it sounds, I do it for myself," I reply with a shrug. "I keep on in a timeline I can live with, with people I enjoy being around. I do what I can to protect my friends. But when it all boils down to it, I realize that nothing I do really matters in the long run. A thousand, two thousand years from now, history may not remember I even existed, or whether I was a man or a woman if they do."

I have to chuckle softly at history's distant recollections of Darth Revan, only being certain that a Darth Revan existed, and not what was done, or who they were, what they looked like, or even whether they were male or female. I couldn't even be sure that it was even actually me, because of how vague the historical records were. Maybe it was someone else. Maybe someone else took up the mask in my place. If history needed a Darth Revan, then history would have a Darth Revan, one way or another.

Kalli stares at me with some shock. "How can you live like that?"

"It's the only way I can live," I say. "Where would I be if I worried about the outcome of every single timeline? I can't save them all. Even if I tried, the very attempt would simply split off more timelines. And what is salvation, truly? You keep someone from destroying the world? Sure, that's reasonable. You keep people alive a little bit longer? You make sure that no one takes over anyplace who would make things unpleasant to live there? Perhaps."

"It's a strange life you live," Kalli says. "A life where you don't have to live with the consequences of your own actions."

"I don't like to think of it like that," I say, grimacing a bit. She does have a point. "There's a reason why I try to use my power as little as possible. I don't like the thought that knowing I'm immortal would make me reckless and uncaring about what happens to others around me."

"I suppose I'm not one to talk or judge, myself," Kalli says, leaning back in her chair and letting out a sigh. "The life I'd wound up with wasn't even so bad. I wasn't the one to bring down Jez'kai, and yet he was brought down anyway. The universe still got saved, for what it was worth. And yet, it was not the life I'd wanted. My mind was broken. Why, if my mind came back in time with me, am I the least bit sane now?"

"I don't claim to truly understand how the magic works," I say. "Believe me, that's a concern for me as well. What if my mind becomes so damaged in some loop that it carries on to the next? Maybe it has a way of self-correcting, safeguards of some sort."

"You don't understand how your own power works?"

I shake my head. "Maybe I had more knowledge of it at one point, but I've forgotten much of what I've experienced. Only the last life I lived is clear in my mind."

Kalli raises an eyebrow. "It sounds like, then, I'm not the one with the real problems here."

I chuckle. "Maybe not. You've got your life back. It's up to you to decide what to do with it. Build a better galaxy, or maybe just retire to the fringe worlds to become a secluded novelist. But whatever you choose, own your choices. There are always choices. Make no regrets."

Kalli nods. "Yeah... I will certainly try."

I give a crooked grin. "Do, or do not. There is no try."


	4. Neville

I have to wonder how many other stories like Dragonfly's and Kalli's are floating around out there, with people too shy or not foolish enough to tell them to a perfect stranger. How many names, how many regrets? How many new timelines were created by that burst of possibility? Enough to repair Falk's damage to the multiverse? Enough to make sure that people's choices and free will matter again?

I've forgotten so much, and for all it bothers me, it makes me wonder if I can't experience the multiverse anew again because of it. How much is there that I simply never saw in the first place, or paths that I did not choose to take? Is it a bad thing to look at the universe as my playground? Perhaps it's the only sane way to look at things, with the sort of power I have. How mad have I wound up driving myself obsessing over things that didn't really matter?

I don't have any answers. And yet, there are things that threaten time itself. I may well be the only thing truly standing between the multiverse and oblivion at times. And for that, I have to be prepared. I can't go forgetting things because something happened that I could go back and experience differently anyway.

"So, are you going to do anything, or what?"

I turn my gaze from the skyline to the voice that spoke, and see what appears to be a bipedal badger. "Who are you?"

The badger chuckles softly and glances down at himself. "Well, of course you wouldn't recognize me like this. I hardly recognize myself, but I'm pretty used to the species shifting. I'm Rispy."

The name sounds like it should be familiar, but I can't place where I've heard it before. I frown, and shake my head. "Sorry, you have me at a loss. I don't remember you. Should I?"

Rispy sighs. "Yeah, you've forgotten me again. As usual. Well, no worries, I'm used to that, too."

"Do you know how I might be able to regain my memories?" I ask.

"I don't really know," Rispy replies. "Sometimes bits and pieces come back on their own. I really have no idea exactly how Tom set it up."

"Do you know where I might be able to find him to ask him, then?" I wonder, not even bothering to question just who this Tom might be.

"Not so much a where as a when," Rispy says. "After all, it would be very easy to visit Hogwarts and meet up with a version of him who did not remember setting up that spell, as that version was not the one to do it. He might still be able to unravel it and figure it out, but I imagine that your best bet would be to find the one who actually set up the spell."

"And I imagine it would be difficult to do so without any memory of him at all," I say.

"Exactly," Rispy says. "When he explained it to me, he claimed that if you truly wished to remember, you would remember, and if you wished to forget, you would forget."

I snort softly. "That's all fine and good, but while I seem to have stopped forgetting things every time I die, for the moment, my memories of previous lifetimes are still very sketchy when they exist at all. I want my memories back, and I want to make sure this never happens again."

"Can't say that I blame you," Rispy says. "For all the things I've seen, I wouldn't want to forget any of them, even if remembering many different lifetimes and being different species can be a little disorienting at times. So what do you plan to do about it?"

"I'm going to explore the universe and gather whatever knowledge I can, and try to find a solution to this problem, one way or another, by any means necessary."

Rispy grins. "Now there's the Stormseeker I remember. Very well. I'm with you."

* * *

I don't even know where to start, but taking the long view, I have all the time in the universe. I asked Rispy what universes he remembers me as having spent a fair amount of time in, and I've decided that the best place to start is the one where I first met Tom. I ask Keolah to calibrate the Nexus to put me down near Hogwarts, and head through the swirling mists to the other side.

I arrive at a quaint snow-covered village in the middle of winter. I appear behind a building, out of sight, and alone. Rispy told me this would happen, and where I am likely to find him in this universe if he didn't promptly meet up with me himself.

Sure enough, a small humanoid with large ears pops into existence next to me moments after my arrival. "It seems Hermione made sure I was freed. I'll have to thank her again when I see her next."

I smile at that, thinking that I certainly must meet this Hermione. Again, most likely. I turn and look at the castle looming across the lake. "So, is that Hogwarts over there?"

Rispy nods beside me. "Yep. That's where the wizard children learn their spells."

"Did I ever attend it?" I ask.

"Several times," Rispy says. "I don't think you ever actually survived to complete school."

I raise an eyebrow. "Was it really that dangerous?"

"For you? Yeah. You were a reckless idiot with no sense of self-preservation. And you hadn't a clue how your power worked, so you kept running across things that would send you back to the start. The Killing Curse being the most notable of those, and many dark wizards throw that around constantly."

"I'll be sure to look out for that, then," I comment dryly, heading for a building that looks like a pub. Always a good place to get information.

In the pub called the Three Broomsticks, several people glance up in idle curiosity as me and Rispy walk in the door. Many of them are dressed in robes akin to those that the Elkandu might wear, or some of the Jedi, and some of them are wearing silly pointed hats of a style neither group of Force-users would be caught dead in.

"There's Hermione, over there," Rispy tells me quietly, indicating a table where a bushy-haired young woman is sitting with a young man. "That's Neville Longbottom with her."

I nod to him, and head over to their table. "Greetings, sir, madam. My name is Lexen Chelseer. I apologize for the intrusion. I have just arrived from overseas and would like to speak with you for a moment, if you don't mind."

"Oh, an American, huh?" Neville says. "Have a seat. I'm Neville Longbottom, and this is my wife, Hermione. We're professors at Hogwarts."

I give a bow and sit down. "It's a pleasure to meet you. What do you teach?"

"I teach Ancient Runes, and Neville does Herbology," Hermione replies. "What brings you here?"

I realize that I can sense something strange from Neville. The familiar sort of feeling from Dragonfly and Kalli. Like a soul bond, but a very thin thread. Is he also one of those who I brought back in time with me?

I look firmly at Neville and say, "I am the one who offered hope in exchange for regret, at the end of all things when there seemed to be no hope or light left to the world."

Neville's eyes widen in shock, and he almost drops his mug. "I-- oh, bloody hell. That was you?"

"Neville, what is he talking about?" Hermione wonders.

With a sigh, Neville gestures with his fingers and mutters, " _Muffliato_. Sorry, Hermione. I always meant to tell you, but the time never seemed right. I suppose now is as good a time as ever."

"Well, I'm all ears," Hermione says. "This should be a good story."

* * *

My name is Neville Longbottom. Before I was a professor at Hogwarts, I was considered nearly a Squib, almost magicless, a worthless scion of a long line of pureblooded wizards. Before your call for regrets, my life was a mess. The world was a mess.

During my first year at Hogwarts, a troll got loose in the school and cornered Hermione in the girls' loo, killing her. That was my first real regret. She was innocent, and while her enthusiasm grated on people at times, I hadn't even gotten a chance to really know her.

In my second year, it was Ginny Weasley who died mysteriously. Disappeared and was never seen again, but the magic clock her family kept indicated that she was deceased. There was talk of closing the school after a first-year student had died two years in a row, but nothing was done about it.

Third year, a bloke named Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban, and there were more deaths. They caught and executed Sirius Black. They killed a hippogriff named Buckbeak for injuring Draco Malfoy in class. Remus Lupin, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that year, and secretly a werewolf, was sentenced to Azkaban himself after he bit and infected Ron Weasley with lycanthropy.

In fourth year, Hogwarts hosted the Triwizard Tournament. That started off sounding like a good chance for wizards to get together and have some friendly competition, but turned into a disaster when all three of the champions wound up dead.

Things continued to go downhill from there. In fifth year, a High Inquisitor was assigned to the school in order to determine where we'd gone wrong, and ultimately, Hogwarts was shut down. Voldemort returned with a vengeance, and Muggleborns were placed in concentration camps. The world was turned upside down.

I'd always wished I could have done something about it. I was terrified, and found my nerve too late. I felt like I could have prevented everything if I'd been more observant and stood up in the first place, rather than letting my family get me down. I survived because I was pureblooded, and did not openly speak out against Voldemort, but it about killed me to stay quiet as the world fell apart around me.

And then I sensed something in a dream. An offer of hope, to go back and make everything right again, demanding my regrets, my life, my very soul in the process. I was desperate, and while I felt that the offer was an honest one, I knew that it was still worth the risk even if it wasn't. I had already sacrificed my honor and dignity for the sake of survival. I had nothing left to lose.

The dream vanished, and the world was wrenched out from under me, and I found myself back in time. The first few hops were pretty futile, as they took me to times after Voldemort had already taken control of the world, and served mainly to get me tortured and killed horribly, but at least I could feel better about doing something and attempting to stand up to him.

When I found myself back before the war really got going, I thought I had a chance of changing things this time. I tried to rally the defenders, but none of them knew how to fight. It was a massacre. I led all those young wizards and witches to their deaths, and had nothing to show for it. My regrets were greater than ever, and to make matters worse, somehow I survived. Mercifully, the world twisted before my eyes, and I found myself further in the past.

I opened my eyes and blinked, finding myself staring into the face of Dolores Umbridge, in a Hogwarts classroom. This must be fifth year, before the school was closed. Maybe I could stop that, I thought. Maybe I could find some way to keep the school open. Still, it was too late. My efforts proved futile again. To much had happened, and the course of the world was set hurtling down to doom.

The next hop took me back to fourth year, during the Triwizard Tournament. I tried to warn the champions about their impending deaths, that the tournament was rigged and there would be no real winner. Fleur shook me off as though I were just another boy trying to come onto her, and Viktor ignored me entirely as though I were beneath him. Cedric, however, listened to me, at least. While he was still compelled to compete by magical contract, he stayed out of the way for the most part and picked the safest routes that would put him behind, but keep him alive. When both Fleur and Viktor met their end during the Third Task, Cedric won by default, and was more than a little grateful for the warning.

The future was a bit brighter this time. Umbridge still showed up to try to shut down the school, but with Cedric as a rallying force, we managed to keep it open. And yet, it still wasn't enough. Wizards remained atrocious in combat due to decades of poor Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching. When the Death Eaters came for us, we fought back, better this time with a little more preparation, but still we failed.

I jumped back to third year next, and tried to unravel the mystery behind Sirius Black and his escape, only to meet dead end after dead end. Failing that, I tried to eat least warn Remus Lupin not to forget to take his wolfsbane potion. The man means well, but he's kind of absent-minded at times. He got a bit annoyed at me about it, although he relaxed a bit after realizing that I wasn't about to judge him for his "furry little problem". Things still went horribly wrong, however. Sirius and Remus got into a nasty confrontation that resulted in both of them dead. Then when Ron and I went after Peter Pettigrew, we were both killed.

Second year, I tried to find out what happened to Ginny. I was unable to find out anything about the Chamber of Secrets, and wound up getting killed by the basilisk, without even having really known what I had been going after in the first place. Rotten luck.

So with that, I wasn't even really surprised when I woke up as a ten year old boy, before my first year of Hogwarts had even started...


End file.
